


Four Lads and a Little Lady

by Caro_Dee



Category: A Hard Day's Night (1964), The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst, Fluff, Gen, light h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro_Dee
Summary: “Oi! There’s a baby outside in the hallway.  I think it’s abandoned.”“Can’t be,” John said. “Babies get abandoned on doorsteps not hotel hallways. Get your story straight, son.”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Limited Theatrical Release 2020





	Four Lads and a Little Lady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).



> I’m not in Beatles RPF fandom so I know very little canon there. I’m treating this as movie canon only so no real life events, friends, wives, or kids, etc.

Ringo’s attention was already distracted from the magazine he was reading by the sound of furtive scuffling noises outside the door to their suite before the knock came. Had one of the others ordered room service? He stood up and went to open the door eagerly – he _was_ feeling a bit peckish – but there was no one there. He heard running feet and tilted his head curiously around the edge of the door to catch sight of a bird darting into the staircase. Shrugging, Ringo started to close the door when an odd noise made him look down at his feet.

It was a baby. A tiny little kid with brown curls, in a yellow dress covered in daisies, looking up at him and grinning, showing off her two tiny, sharp little teeth. Ringo blinked a couple of times. The baby laughed and waved. Ringo slowly waved back. 

Ringo shut the door, then opened it again. Still there. “One moment, please,” he said courteously and shut the door again. He went over to the bedroom that John and Paul were in and stuck his head in. “Oi!”

John pulled the pillow off his head and squinted up at Ringo. “What?”

“There’s a baby outside in the hallway.” 

Paul stopped combing his hair in the mirror and turned to stare at Ringo. “A what?”

“A baby. Out in the hallway.”

“Then call room service to pick up the rubbish,” John muttered and pulled the pillow back over his face.

Ringo shrugged. “Someone knocked on the door and ran off. I think it’s abandoned.”

“Can’t be,” John said, lifting the pillow up again just long enough to add, “Babies get abandoned on doorsteps not hotel hallways. Get your story straight, son.”

“But what should I do? About the baby?” Ringo clarified.

“Let’s have a look at it then,” Paul said and headed out the room. John heaved a put-upon sigh and got up as well.

Paul opened the door. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s definitely a baby.” He leaned down and carefully picked her up. “Hang on. There’s a note on the floor.”

“A note?” John turned to Ringo. “By George, you must be right.” He leaned over to examine the baby more closely. “Hallo, babby. Your mum does not know how to abandon you properly.”

George came out the other bedroom. “Someone call me?” he asked. “What’s this?” He joined the group by the floor.

“Somebody left Ringo a baby,” said John.

George turned to stare at Ringo with raised brows. “That’s your baby?”

“No!” Ringo said, quickly. “Not mine.”

“But he said—” George jerked his chin at John and looked confused.

“No! She doesn’t look anything like me.”

“She’s got your eyes,” John pointed out helpfully. They all looked at the baby. She did have big blue eyes. They looked back at Ringo.

Ringo took a step back, looking terrified. He floundered for a second and then triumphantly pointed out, “She hasn’t got my nose!”

“You’re right about that,” John agreed, tapping the little button nose gently. “She’s got Paul’s nose.”

Paul just rolled his eyes and John continued tapping the little girl’s nose experimentally. The little girl frowned and whined unhappily and wriggled in Paul’s arms.

“Or maybe it’s George’s. She’s got his eyebrows.”

George leaned in closer to stare at the fierce little frown. “She hasn’t got any eyebrows.”

Unhappy at the strange face so close to her, the baby smacked both hands on George’s startled face, then gave a high-pitched cackle, echoed by a lower-pitched chuckle from John. She stopped and stared at John solemnly, then lifted her arms to him and started wriggling in earnest.

Paul, Ringo and George shared an amused glance and crowed, in unison, “John!”

“The vote’s unanimous – four to one. She’s your kid!” Paul said and handed the insistent baby over to a laughing John. Then he bent to pick up the ignored note.

“I hereby accept this nomination,” John fluted in an over-bred, feminine tone. “What do you say, Princess? Are you mine? You poor little thing.”

Paul cleared his throat and began to read the note aloud.

_Please take care of my Lizzie. I desperately need someone to watch her for a couple of days. I will be back for her soon._

_A father should take some responsibility for his child._

Paul flipped the note over. “There’s no name or address. What should we do?”

“Are we keeping her?” asked Ringo.

“There’ll be no keeping of girls in your rooms! Not on my watch,” announced a belligerent voice behind them. The Beatles turned to face Norm in the doorway, Shake behind him. “John, get rid of the girl. Where is she? In the bedroom?” Norm strode past them to check the bedrooms.

The boys exchanged glances, then smiled blandly at Shake.

Shake started to smile back, then stopped to stare. “Why are you holding a baby?”

“This is my precious little girl. Heh, Heh, heh,” cackled John, with a dirty old man voice and rolling his eyes wildly. He lifted Lizzie up and pretended to gnaw on her face. “Isn’t she delicious?” The baby shrieked with glee.

“What’s that noise?” Norm popped out of the bedroom where he’d been checking under the beds. “A baby? John, put that down right now. You’re filthy.”

John clutched the baby to his bosom and solemnly intoned, “Shan’t.”

“Who gave you lot permission to have a baby in here? There’ll be no keeping of babies in your rooms. Not on my watch.” Norm frowned. “Where did you get this baby? Don’t tell me you stole it?”

“We don’t know,” said Paul and handed him the note. “Someone left her at the door.”

Norm read it and said, decisively, “Right. Shake, take the baby away from John before she catches anything. I’ll call the police.”

“What? No!” “You can’t do that.” “What if the mum comes back?” “You’re a swine, Norm!” All four boys protested at once.

“I don’t want to take the baby,” Shake whined. “I’m afraid of babies.” Everyone turned to stare at him and he shrugged. “They’re so… small.”

“Watch it, you, or I’ll take that personally.” Norm narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger threateningly. “You’re taller and tougher than her. I’m almost sure of it.”

Shake grimaced but obediently took a step toward the baby. John took a step back and the other three moved in between. Shake looked helplessly at Norm.

“No one’s taking the baby,” Paul said firmly. “The letter says the mum is coming back for her.”

“One of us might be the father,” added Ringo. “Not me, of course.”

“Then she’s looking for a breach of promise or a paternity case,” Norm said. “You keeping the baby looks like you’re agreeing to take responsibility for her. That might look like you’re admitting paternity to a court. What if the newspapers get hold of it?”

“What if the newspapers find out we gave away a baby that might be ours?” asked Paul. “That wouldn’t go over well either.”

“You’re right,” Norm admitted unhappily. “Fans everywhere might decide you were debauched, despicable villains whose records they refuse to buy. Okay. You can keep the kid for two days. If the mother doesn’t come back by then, we’re moving on to the next city and we’ll make arrangements then. Secret yet admirable if discovered arrangements.”

The lads cheered and John tried to hand off the baby to Shake.

“Oh no,” said Norm with an evil grin. “You want to keep the baby, then you’ll watch the baby. Shake has other things to do.”

“But what about the concerts?”

“You can’t keep a baby backstage!”

“Yeah, all those screaming girls are much too loud for a little baby.”

“All right. Shake can watch her during the concerts,” Norm agreed while Shake whimpered. “But _only_ the concerts. The rest of the time it’s you lot. That means no leaving her alone while you go out drinking and carousing, understood? …And no taking her with you!”

There was a slightly less cheerful chorus of agreement. Norm looked somewhat disgruntled but shrugged. “We’ll be back at six to get you. Be ready.”

Then he left with Shake.

The four Beatles stopped grinning and looked at the baby in John’s arms.

“Now what do we do?”

###

The baby sat in the middle of the floor, her tiny face dripping tears as she screamed.

The four men stood in separate corners as far away from her as they could and held their noses.

“How can such a tiny baby make such a huge fecking stench?”

“Someone’s got to change that nappy.”

“I’ve never done it before.”

George stood there flicking contemptuous glances at the others until finally he sighed. “I’ve changed my niece. I’ll do it.”

“Good man!” “Our hero!” “Thank God!”

“We need a clean nappy first. I’ll check with the concierge.”

“What should we do?”

“Stand there and stare at her?” George said drily and walked out.

“Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t respect us,” John quipped.

Five minutes later, George returned with a nappy, a pin and some extra flannels. He picked up the little girl and carried her into the bathroom. There was the sound of running water and then silence. Then he brought her back out.

“There you go, you twee bastards. All clean and sweet-smelling again.”

“Yes! Come to papa, Princess.” John took the baby out of George’s arms and jiggled her until she laughed.

“The concierge is going to send up a cot but we need to shop for whatever else she needs: more nappies, jammies, another outfit. I think she’s old enough for some baby food but we’ll still need formula and some bottles. Maybe ask at the shop?”

“All right! Who wants an adventure? You do!” John nuzzled the little girl. “Hey, Ringo. Your turn!” Then he gently tossed her at Ringo, who gave a terrified yelp as he fumbled and fortunately caught her. The baby shrieked with glee and bounced in his arms.

“I almost dropped her. Someone else take her!” He hurriedly passed her off to Paul, who rolled his eyes and examined the baby to check if she was unhappy. Seeing her excitement, he tossed her to George.

They played a careful game of hot potato all the way down the hall and in the lift accompanied by happy squeals from Lizzie and an occasional terrified one from Ringo. Once the doors opened onto the lobby, they were all standing prim and proper with Paul holding her. 

After a quick consultation at the desk they all strode out into the sunshine on a mission to outfit the little girl. They were less than 20 meters from the door when someone shouted, “There they are!” and a thundering herd of fans came after them.

“Shite!” screamed Paul as they all began to run. “They’ll trample Lizzie.”

They turned right at the corner. John saw an alley up ahead. He drew up alongside Paul. “Give her to me. I’ll duck down the alley and you draw them off.”

Paul handed her off just in time for John to take a quick step to the right and lean casually against the alley wall, holding Lizzie up to hide his face. The screaming crowd streamed past the alley chasing after the now three Beatles. John waited a couple of minutes because there were always stragglers and once he was sure it was safe, he strolled nonchalantly back towards the hotel. Just a dad and his little nipper out for a walk on a Saturday afternoon. Nothing to see here. Nothing at all.

Shifting Lizzie to his left arm, John awkwardly opened the door to their suite, then kicked the door shut behind him. He sat down on one of the sofas and rearranged Lizzie on his lap. They stared silently at each for a minute.

“So what do you have to say for yourself, eh?”

Her big blue eyes looked up at him, then she waved her arms and bounced, announcing loudly, “Bah! Bah-bah-BAH!”

“Excellent point,” John admitted with a smile. She really was an adorable little thing. Lizzie grinned back and yawned.

“Time for a nap, is it?” John laid down on the sofa with Lizzie on his chest. She squirmed around a bit then relaxed against him. “I wonder who your mum is,” he said.

“Mama?” Lizzie lifted her head to look around. Her face puckered up at the empty room. “Mama?”

“Ah, ah,” John said as he jiggled her a bit to distract her. “No crying or I’ll start crying too.”

Lizzie stared at him solemnly then laid her head back down on his chest. “Dada,” she said, quietly.

John stared down at her, startled. Hesitantly, he brought up one hand to rest gently on her back. Lizzie sighed, closed her eyes, and went completely limp. John just kept staring at her until, at some point, he fell asleep, as well.

###

Paul opened the door, stuck his head in and then shushed George and Ringo behind him. “Quiet, she’s asleep.”

They tiptoed in and deposited the results of their shopping trip on the floor, then gathered around the sofa.

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep,” whispered Ringo. The others quietly snickered.

Eyes still shut, John held up two fingers.

Mock gasps all round. “Really, John, not in front of the baby,” Paul scolded in a whisper.

George poked him in the stomach. “Get up. They brought the cot and you can lay her down to sleep.”

John’s arms tightened for a moment, then he sighed and slowly sat up. Lizzie didn’t stir so he stood and walked over to the cot and gently put her down in it.

“Look what I got,” Ringo said and picked up a huge, pink stuffed elephant. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Looks just like you,” John said. 

“That’s what I said,” George snickered and Ringo made a “ha-ha” face at both of them and looked forlornly at Paul.

“She’ll love it,” Paul reassured him. “We got everything she’ll need for the weekend. We can feed her whenever she wakes up.”

They stood round awkwardly for a few moments, then split up, George and Ringo heading into their bedroom where they closed the door and began talking quietly. Paul sat on one of the sofas and grabbed a magazine, flipping through it as he eyed John, still standing at the cot staring down at Lizzie, with a vaguely puzzled frown.

By the time Norm and Shake arrived, Lizzie was up, washed, fed, washed, stuffed into jammies, and playing peek-a-boo with everyone. She was perfectly happy up until she realized everyone was leaving. Lizzie and Shake stared at each other with almost identical anguished expressions. She opened her mouth.

The band fled guiltily down the hall pursued by tragic wails. John hesitated for a moment at the lift, looking back. Paul slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine with Shake. Get your mind on business, now.”

John gave him a dirty look but stepped in the lift.

###

The concert went fine. As usual, the girls screaming their heads off meant no one could hear the actual music but everyone seemed to have a good time. Almost everyone.

During the party backstage, Paul met Ringo’s gaze as he jerked his chin over towards where John was mechanically flirting with a group of giggling fans. Paul rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Excuse me,” Paul said, smiling at the two girls hanging on his every word. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He joined John and leaned in to say, “Someone needs to go back to the hotel and relieve Shake. You want me to?”

“No!” said John quickly. “I’ll go. You stay and have fun.” He turned to the girls and added, “Sorry, ladies. Duty calls.” 

Disappointed faces turned hopeful eyes toward Paul. He smiled as he noticed some of them were prettier than the birds he’d just left.

### 

When John opened the door, everything was dark and quiet. He startled when Shake loomed out of the darkness waving his arms and frantically shushed him.

“Quiet!” Shake whispered loudly. “She just fell asleep twenty minutes ago. If you wake her, I’ll murder you.”

John grinned. “So you had a good time then?”

“I’m never having kids,” Shake swore fervently. “She cried the whole time. The hotel manager came by twice because other guests complained. If you weren’t The Beatles I swear they’d have kicked us out on the street.”

“She missed her da,” John said, tiptoeing over to the cot to check on the sleeping baby. Lizzie lay sprawled out like the dead and he leaned in to hear her soft breaths with relief.

“You don’t know you’re her dad.” John ignored the pitying tone in Shake’s voice.

“I’ve got a one in four chance, don’t I?” John said, smiling down at Lizzie as he gently traced a curl on her forehead. The touch was enough to rouse Lizzie and she opened her eyes and babbled sleepily. John was pretty sure he heard a da-da in there. Maybe a better than one in four chance. A parent and child would recognize something in each other, wouldn’t they? That was only sensible.

“Help me move the cot into the bedroom, would you?” John asked. “I don’t want her waking up alone.”

They carefully carried the cot into John and Paul’s bedroom with Lizzie looking pleased and curious at the swooping sensation. Then Shake gratefully made his escape.

“All right, up you come!” John lifted Lizzie and settled her against his shoulder. He kissed her sleepy little head and paced quietly in front of the cot. Lizzie babbled softly and John responded quietly with lyrics in a sing-song voice. They both seemed satisfied with the quality of conversation.

Finally, John laid her back down in the cot. Lizzie gave a protesting murmur and struggled to keep her eyes open.

“None of that,” warned John quietly. “It’s time to sleep. And I know just the thing.”

He went and pulled his guitar out of the closet and sat on the edge of the bed closest to the cot. “I don’t know any lullabies but you’ll like this one. It’s brill. Just don’t tell Paul I said so.”

Strumming as lightly as he could, John began to sing softly.

_I give her all my love  
That's all I do  
And if you saw my love  
You'd love her too  
I love her_

_She gives me everything  
And tenderly  
The joy my baby brings  
She brings to me  
And I love her_

_A love like ours  
Could never die  
As long as I  
Have you near me_

_Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
Will never die  
And I love her_

As the last chord faded into silence, John stared at the cot with the soundly sleeping Lizzie. He quietly repeated the last line to himself. 

He stood to put the guitar away. Then he changed into his pyjamas and went to bed, arranging himself so he could get up quickly if Lizzie was disturbed. 

He watched over her a long time before he fell asleep.

### 

The radio was blaring rock ‘n roll and John danced with Lizzie, bouncing her in his arms. Occasionally, he would gently dip her and pull her up, both of them grinning at each other. Ringo was off to the side, rapping his drumsticks to the beat.

Paul sat on the sofa, watching them with a concerned expression on his face. John had gotten too invested too fast. They still had no idea who Lizzie’s mum was or why she’d left her with only a note. The whole thing stank like yesterday’s fish. And John was too besotted to realize.

George came over to perch on the sofa’s arm. “He’s bonkers over that baby.”

“You know how he gets,” Paul said. “Something catches his interest and he’s obsessed for a while. He’ll get over it.”

“I’ve been thinking,” George said. “Norm was right.” Paul threw him an incredulous look. George laughed. “Hey, even Norm can be right sometimes. It would make more sense if we’d heard through a solicitor first, right? Leaving Lizzie like that is odd. What are the chances the mum was just looking for somebody rich to give her baby to?”

“You’re not wrong,” Paul admitted. “But John doesn’t want to see it.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“Why me?” Paul complained.

“Because you’re the only one he’ll listen to.”

Paul sighed a martyr’s sigh. “All right. Send him over.”

George put his hand on Paul’s shoulder sympathetically. Then he stood and went over to John and Lizzie. “Mind if I cut in?”

“You little heartbreaker,” John told Lizzie, as he handed her over. “You be a good girl for Uncle George.”

“Paul wants to talk to you,” George said. He held Lizzie out and starting turning in circles, swooping her up and down, to the little girl’s delight.

John flung himself on the sofa and asked, “What’s up?”

“You’re getting along really well with Lizzie,” Paul started.

“Why not? She’s a real sweetheart.” He looked over at Lizzie where George was holding her threateningly over Ringo’s head while he cowered with mock cries of terror..

“You know, she might not be your daughter.”

John’s face settled into a stubborn expression that Paul knew all too well. “Then I’ll be her Uncle John and spoil her rotten. But I think she is. I can feel it.” He sprang up and crossed over to grab Lizzie back. “Isn’t that right, Princess? You should be spoiled rotten.”

Lizzie babbled at him in agreement.

Paul met George’s eyes and shook his head. No arguing with that one.

### 

When they got back to the hotel after the concert that night, John expected to find everything in the same state as last night with Shake and Lizzie in the dark. Instead, Shake sat there calmly reading a magazine in the well-lit sitting room.

“Where’s Lizzie?” asked John, already heading toward the bedroom.

“Oh, she’s gone,” said Shake, smiling. “Her mum picked her up just now.”

“And you just let her?”

“It’s her kid. Was I supposed to stop her?”

“Yes!” shouted John. “Yes, you bastard! I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.”

“Calm down, John,” said Paul. “Shake, did you get her address? Her mum’s name?”

“No,” said Shake, watching a seething John warily. Then he brightened. “You could ask her. They just left a few minutes before you came. You could catch her.”

John stared at him a second, then tore out the door. The others ran after him. He hit the lift button, then swore and ran down the stairs instead. They burst into the lobby and ran out the entrance.

John grabbed the doorman and shouted, “A woman and baby just came out a few minutes ago. Did you see where they went? Did they get in a cab?”

“No,” stammered the doorman, pulling away from John. “They went that way.” He pointed to the left. “I heard them say something about a bus?”

John hared off in that direction. Paul stopped long enough to say, “Sorry about that. He’s had a hard day.” Then they all ran after John.

At the corner, John turned frantically in circles. “Which way?”

It was George who saw them turning the far corner. “There!” he shouted. And off they went. Rounding the corner, they stumbled to a stop. Across the street, at the bus stop, stood a man and a woman, holding Lizzie.

“Lizzie!” shouted John and hurried across the street. The couple looked up in alarm at the approaching group and the woman retreated slightly behind the man. Lizzie pointed and babbled happily and the woman shushed her gently.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” panted John. “I was worried we’d miss you. We’re the ones you left Lizzie with. Well, you already know that.” 

John was grinning wildly in triumph but the other three Beatles were more wary. The couple did not look particularly pleased to see them. 

Paul cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Not that we weren’t happy to watch her because Lizzie is a delight but your note said that one of us was the father?” 

The man grimaced and said to the woman, “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

“We want to know which one of us is the father. We’d like to see her sometimes and we can help out…” John stopped and took another look at the woman under the street light. She had the same blue eyes and curly brown hair as Lizzie but she was vaguely familiar. “Hang on, I know you,” John said, eyes narrowed. The woman looked up from Lizzie and arched an eyebrow. “Your name was… Jane. Jane… Something. I slept with you once.” His face hardened. “Four years ago.”

“Yes, you did,” she agreed pleasantly. The man next to her frowned and put his arm round her possessively.

“So did I. Three years ago,” said Paul. His eyes flickered toward John with a sympathetic grimace.

“Well, I never did,” said George.

“I never saw you before in me life,” said Ringo, bewildered.

“None of us are Lizzie’s father,” stated John flatly.

“Never said you were, did I? It was just a general observation. But you could have been the way you were spreading it around.” Her tone took on a bitter note. “What about the future? All those pretty little girls mad for The Beatles? Do you even think about that when you’re having your fun?”

“Why did you leave her with us then?”

She shrugged. “It was an emergency. Ted’s mum was in an accident and taken to hospital. We couldn’t find anyone to take Lizzie and Ted needed me there with him. And there you were, my old friends. Two concerts in the same city. Just my luck,” she cooed down at Lizzie.

“Is your mum all right?” asked Ringo.

Jane smiled at him. “She’s going to make it. Thanks for asking.”

“You idiot,” said John. Paul and George exchanged a look and shifted to John’s side. “Our manager wanted to report an abandoned baby. You might never have got her back.”

“You forget that I know you boys pretty well. I hung around the scene for a couple years and you might have been girl crazy but you were decent enough boys otherwise. I knew you wouldn’t let that happen, especially if you thought she might be yours.” 

“Bitch,” John hissed and took a menacing step. Paul and George closed in on him and took hold of his arms, both supporting and ready to hold him back.

Jane squawked as Ted swung her and Lizzie behind him and faced John, with his fists up. “Back off. I don’t care who you are, you’re not touching my wife.”

“You back off,” Paul said sternly. “Nothing’s happening to your wife. And, you,” he turned to Jane, who was staring at John with a crooked smile on her face. “Stop winding him up. Go on, get out of here and don’t come back. Here’s your bus coming now.”

“Come on, love.” Ted steered Jane around gently. “Let’s go home.”

Jane smiled softly up at him and settled Lizzie a little higher. They climbed up onto the bus. Lizzie peered over her shoulder back at the men who’d played with her all weekend. She laughed and waved bye-bye.

The Beatles watched them move through the bus and settle into a seat. Lizzie saw them through the window and waved again.

Ringo lifted his hand and waved back at her. “Bye, Lizzie. Be a good girl!” The others stared at him. “What? It’s not Lizzie’s fault. She’s just a baby.”

“Yeah,” sighed Paul and waved at her. Lizzie’s smile grew brighter and her wave more enthusiastic. George nudged John and started waving as well. 

John just stood there, staring into the happy little girl’s eyes as the bus started moving and she was carried further and further away from him. He stood there until the bus was tiny in the distance and the others were quietly shuffling in impatience. 

Lizzie was gone. 

Paul jerked his chin at the others to go on and Ringo and George nodded. “See you lot back at the hotel.” 

As they walked away, Paul let go of his grip on John and threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

John took a shuddering breath and dropped his forehead against Paul’s shoulder for a second. Then he straightened and took a step back, his eyes dark in a pale, tense face. “Tell the others not to wait up for me. I need to get pissed.”

“Want company?” Paul offered, with a worried frown. John shook his head and Paul let him go. John was in one of his moods and there was no holding him back. “Be careful, okay? See you in the morning.”

John walked off in the opposite direction that Lizzie had disappeared into. His stride was brisk and his shoulders tense. He looked like a man on a mission.

Paul sighed and went back to the hotel. Best to get all the baby stuff out before John got back.

### 

John lurched, swearing, out of the warm, lit pub into the night. He’d sullenly downed his whisky refusing to speak to any of the loud, cheerful patrons. At the end, someone had backed into him in the crowd and he’d turned, shoved them and gotten into a screaming match until the barman kicked him out.

Outside, he unsteadily ducked into the alley and leaned against the brickwork, curling his arms around himself and rocking back and forth. Lizzie was gone. She wasn’t his; she wasn’t any of theirs, so it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. The place in his heart where he’d known she was his was ripped open and empty. It hurt. It hurt. He couldn’t bear it. He never wanted to feel like this again.

John buried his face in his hands and wept.


End file.
